


The Merlin Files

by Griselda_Gimpel



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Espionage, F/F, Gen, Humor, Organized Crime, Other, Parody, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-08 02:37:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 8,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21468694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griselda_Gimpel/pseuds/Griselda_Gimpel
Summary: The adventures of the Galar Pokemon administration and their loving but clueless trainer. Updated irregularly. Follows a different, parallel plot than the game.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	1. Sobble Gets a Name

**Author's Note:**

> This fan fiction uses the anime convention that Pokemon can understand their trainers, while trainers just hear their pokemon say their name.

The sobble looked at his new trainer and started to cry. This caused the girl to start crying, as well. They were just outside of the girl’s house, and while they had been intending to set off on their journey, they weren’t making good progress.

The girl crouched down and picked up the sobble. She cradled him, but he only cried harder.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” the girl sobbed.

“I don’t have a name!” wailed the sobble, but of course all the girl heard was “Sobble SOBBLE!”

“Are you hungry?” the girl fretted. “Thirsty? Tired?” She began to cry harder. “I broke it. I broke my-“ She stopped crying abruptly. “I haven’t named you yet, have I?”

The sobble shook his head.

“Is that why you’re crying?” the girl asked.

The sobble nodded. His tears were starting to dry.

“How about Bluey?” the girl asked.

The sobble shook his head.

“Stomper?”

Another headshake followed this.

“Merlin?”

The sobble’s lip wobbled. “But I’m a spy,” he said.

“It’s adorable how you say your name like that,” the girl said.

The sobble wiggled out of his trainer’s arms. He ducked behind a bush. Peeking out from behind it, he mimed looking around and then rolled to behind another bush.

“Oh, I understand!” said the girl. “In that case, how about Agent Merlin?”

Agent Merlin cocked his head and considered his name. He thought about it for a moment and then nodded his head.

“Agent Merlin it is then!” said the girl. “Let’s go, Agent Merlin. We’ve got a big adventure ahead of us!”


	2. The Informant

Agent Merlin and his trainer were not far out from Postwick when one of Agent Merlin’s informants checked in. And while Agent Merlin’s trainer let out a squee at how pretty the nickit was, Agent Merlin knew that there were more important matters at stake.

Chairman Ross only thought that he ran Galar.

In reality, there was a whole other system of government that the pokemon had amongst themselves. There were spies, generals, administrators, and – of course – a prime minister.

“Greetings, Red Fern,” Agent Merlin said to the nickit.

“About time I ran into you,” Red Fern responded.

“Agent Merlin, use your water attack!” shouted Agent Merlin’s trainer. “I think it’s a fire type!”

“I’m not a fire type,” Red Fern said, which the trainer heard as “Nickit!” Hearts filled her eyes.

“Sorry about this,” Agent Merlin said. “We’ve got to make it look good for the cameras, as they say.”

Red Fern sighed. “Sometimes you’ve got to roll with the punches,” he said right before Agent Merlin’s attack hit him smack dab in the middle of the face. This was followed a short while later by the trainer’s thrown pokeball.

“Now what am I going to name you?” the trainer asked.

“I already have a name,” Red Fern said. “It’s Red Fern.”

“I can’t name you ‘Nickit’, silly,” said the trainer. “That’s your species. It’d be like if Hop’s parents named him ‘human’.”

“Better mime it, old chap,” said Agent Merlin. “Otherwise you’re liable to end up with a name like ‘Bluey’.”

“What kind of name is ‘Hop’?” Red Fern mused. Then he sighed, gesturing first to his fur and then to the appropriate plant. It took the trainer a bit, but she figured it out in the end. Happily for the two pokemon, their trainer decided to make camp after that, and they were able to properly talk with each other.

“What’s the news from Fat Pony’s gang?” Agent Merlin asked. Fat Pony was a Galarian ponyta and a mid-scale mob boss. Red Fern had infiltrated the gang and reported in periodically to Agent Merlin. Of course, this had been easier when Agent Merlin had been with the champion instead of the human he was stuck with now.

“What do you know about Dr. Morpe-No?” Red Fern asked.

“Just the usual rumors,” Agent Merlin asked. “I’m not even sure they really exist. Why do you ask?”

“A representative of theirs contacted Fat Pony last week,” Red Fern said. “That’s why I decided to check in.”

“Good work,” Agent Merlin said. “We should alert the prime minister.”

A ball hit Agent Merlin on the side of the head right then, and he turned to find himself looking into the eager face of his trainer. Tears welled up in his eyes as he realized that the rest of their conversation would have to wait.

“Yay!” his trainer exclaimed. “I’m playing fetch with my sobble! Oh dear, it’s starting to cry again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! Or at least, the plot exists now!


	3. Kidnapped!

Before Agent Merlin and Red Fern found the prime minister, they found her bodyguard, Sir Gareth. And before they found Sir Gareth, they had both evolved. Sir Gareth was not evolved. She was still a farfetch’d, and they found her flat on her back in a grass field. While their trainer was looking for shiny stuff on the ground, they helped her to her feet.

“Are you okay? Where’s the Prime Minister?” Agent Merlin asked.

“I don’t know,” Sir Gareth said. “I was jumped from behind. I feel like I’ve been out for a while.”

“Hello,” Red Fern said shyly.

“Who’s your friend?” Sir Gareth asked.

“I’m Red Fern,” he said. “I take it you already know Agent Merlin.”

“Not by that name,” Sir Gareth said. She frowned. “I thought that you have forsaken names. Made you a better spy and all that.”

“I changed my mind,” Agent Merlin said flippantly, flipping the fringe of his hair. In truth, his trainer initially neglecting to name him had upset him greatly. To deny himself a name was one thing, but to be denied one was another altogether.

“Well, we need to find the prime minister,” Sir Gareth said. “Which means we need to find where the prime minister has gone.” She turned to Red Fern. “I’m Sir Gareth, by the way.”

“Isn’t that a boy’s name?” Red Fern asked stupidly.

“Just as Sir Gareth called himself Beaumains that he might earn renowned for what he did rather than for who his family was, I call myself Sir Gareth for the same.”

“Right, right,” Red Fern said quickly. “I could take us to Fat Pony. He knows most things, so he might know where the prime minister is.”

“I have a better idea,” Agent Merlin said. “This sounds serious. We should seek out Le Vainqueur.”

“Who?” Red Fern asked.

“Le Vainqueur du Vainqueur du Monde,” Agent Merlin explained. “She’s the greatest strategist that the prime minister has.”

“I’d rather not,” Sir Gareth said.

“Come now,” Agent Merlin said. “I know that you and she have your differences, but surely you must acknowledge her capabilities.”

“Do you even know where she is?” Sir Gareth asked.

“She’s helping Kabu with his gym challenge,” Agent Merlin said.

“I’ve heard about that,” Red Fern injected. “Isn’t she worried about a trainer catching her?”

“No,” said Agent Merlin.

“Of course not,” Sir Gareth said sourly. “She wouldn’t call herself The Conqueror of the Conqueror of the World if she was.”

“Be fair,” Agent Merlin said. “She doesn’t call herself that.”

“She doesn’t?” asked Red Fern.

“No,” Agent Merlin whispered. “It’s what her enemies call her.”

“Fine!” Sir Gareth conceded. She sighed. “Better go poke your trainer and have her catch me.” That was accomplished in short order. It took a bit longer to ger the trainer to give Sir Gareth the proper name, after which point Sir Gareth spotted a wobbuffet a short distance away. Sir Gareth addressed her new trainer. “You! Human girl child. Fetch me a leek! I’m going to go beat on that wobbuffet over there until I evolve. It sounds like I’m going to need it for the journey ahead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, Sir Gareth's trainer just heard her last line as, "Farfetch'd! Farfetch'd." But she did get her leek in the end.


	4. The Conqueror of the Conqueror of the World

Agent Merlin and his team found getting their trainer to give Le Vainqueur the correct name to be the easy part. It turned out that after Le Vainqueur had sent a number of gym challengers home in tears, Kabu and the other gym trainers had also taken to calling Le Vainqueur that. Apparently, there was some human in Galarian history who’d gone by the same title.

The difficult part was getting Le Vainqueur to go into the pokeball.

“Now, listen…” Sir Gareth tried. She was using her weakest attack, and it was not having much effect against the sizzlipede before her.

“That’s it!” Sir Gareth’s trainer shouted. “Don’t crit it. I know you really like to crit things, but I really want a sizzlipede, so please don’t KO it. Please?”

“Hear that?” Sir Gareth said to Le Vainqueur. The other pokemon responded by launching a fire attack at Sir Gareth.

“Ouch!” Sir Gareth’s trainer said with a wince.

“Darn you,” Sir Gareth spat, tapping Le Vainqueur with her leek. “Won’t you listen??”

“You haven’t said anything worth listening to,” Le Vainqueur said finally before launching another attack.

“Oh, I want to crit you so hard.”

“Another hit should do it!”

“Burn.”

“The prime minister’s been kidnapped!”

“What?”

“Pokeball go!”

Later, after their trainer had beat Kabu, Agent Merlin and the rest finally had a chance to talk when their trainer set up camp.

“Welcome aboard, Le Vainqueur,” Agent Merlin said.

“What’s this about the prime minister?” Le Vainqueur asked.

“Does your name really mean “the Conqueror”?” Red Fern asked.

“More like “the Victor” or “the Winner”,” Le Vainqueur explained.

“It can also mean “the Conqueror”,” Sir Gareth injected.

“I suppose,” Le Vainqueur said. “But don’t we have more important matters to discuss? Such as our prime minister being missing?”

“I wish I could have crit you,” Sir Gareth muttered, too low for Le Vainqueur to hear. However, Agent Merlin, who was closer to her, heard and decided to intervene.

“I think perhaps it’s time to pay Fat Pony a visit,” he suggested. He glanced upward to find his trainer beaming down at him with tears in her eyes.

“My whole team gets along so well!” she gushed, “I’m going to make you all my one-of-a-kind, wobbuffet-class curry!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To recap, we've got:
> 
> Agent Merlin: a drizzile   
Red Fern: a thievul   
Sir Gareth: a sirfetch'd  
Le Vainqueur: a sizzlipede
> 
> and they're on their way to see Fat Pony the Galarian ponyta.


	5. Fat Pony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this fan fiction will continue to be rated G, it might be a slightly harder G - a PG perhaps - from here on out, for reasons of Thematic Elements. If there are any super young readers following along, I want you to be able to make an informed choice. The Thematic Elements included are corruption, crime, infidelity, and maybe politics.

Fat Pony usually resided in Glimwood Tangle, but when Red Fern had been with him last, he’d been planning to take a vacation to Motostoke Riverbank. While he was away, his consigliere – known to all in the organization as Uncle Jack - would be running the business. Agent Merlin knew from Red Fern’s intelligence that Uncle Jack was a mudbray, but his informant had been able to provide little more than that.

Their task, then, was to get their trainer to Motostoke Riverbank. After much discussion, they decided that Le Vainqueur would dart away in that direction the next time they were at camp, forcing their trainer to follow. Sir Gareth offered to do it, arguing that she could make more of a racket, but Agent Merlin agreed with the argument that Le Vainqueur was faster.

However, it would not be good for either Sir Gareth or Le Vainqueur to approach Fat Pony. There was too much of a risk that Fat Pony would recognize them and bolt. So after Le Vainqueur had let their trainer catch her and make camp again, Sir Gareth agreed to keep their trainer occupied while Agent Merlin and Red Fern slipped off again.

“I’ll make introductions,” Red Fern whispered as they got close.

“Who’s there?” Fat Pony called, looking up from where he’d been getting a drink from the river.

“It’s me, Boss,” Red Fern answered, stepping forward. “If it’s all right, Boss, I brought a friend with me.”

“Red Fern?” Fat Pony asked. “I thought you were visiting your sick grandmother. What’s this about a friend?” There was suspicion in his voice, and Agent Merlin held his breath.

“I was,” Red Fern lied. “She’s doing better. Then I ran into a buddy of mine, Merlin, and he wanted to meet you. He’s a bagman, a real earner. He was with the Spikemuth Gang.”

“And he’s not any longer?” Fat Pony asked, skepticism evident.

Agent Merlin stepped forward and gave a short bow. “I got a little too friendly with the missus, I’m afraid. Nothing happened, but the boss is the jealous type.” He blew his fringe out of his eyes. “So I need a new employer. Heard you did the prime minister in. That true? Red Fern here’s got tighter lips than a carnivine.” It was only a suspicion, but even if he was wrong, it might lead to more intel – or at least cross one suspect off the list.

Fat Pony tossed his mane. “I ain’t saying nothing.”

And he didn’t, as a great ball hit Fat Pony on his nose right then, and into the ball he went.

“Yes!” explained Merlin’s trainer. “I caught it!”

Later, when Fat Pony was let out of his great ball at camp, he was not pleased to find Sir Gareth and Le Vainqueur staring at him.

“I know you!” Fat Pony spat at Sir Gareth. “You’re the prime minister’s bodyguard.” He turned Le Vainqueur and blanched. “And you’re Le Vainqueur du Vainqueur du Monde.” His voice was almost a hushed whisper. “I’ve heard of you.” He turned to Red Fern and Agent Merlin suddenly, and there was fury in his voice. “Who are you two, really??”

“Never you mind them,” Le Vainqueur said menacingly. “Where’s the prime minster?”

“Go jump in the lake!”

“You’re stuck with us now,” Le Vainqueur reminded him. “This can be a pleasant arrangement or an unpleasant one. It’s your choice.”

There are criminals who won’t break no matter how much you threaten them or tickle them or tell them they can’t have any ice cream. Then there are criminals who are only tough when they’re surrounded by a couple of heavies who will back them up. Fat Pony was alone, and Fat Pony belonged in the latter category.

“Fine! We handed the prime minister over to Cara Liss.”

“That monster!” Sir Gareth exclaimed.

“And the job,” Agent Merlin injected, “You did it for Dr. Morpe-No?” That was another suspicion Agent Merlin hoped to get confirmed.

“Yeah, what’s it to you?”

“We are going to go retrieve her, is all,” Agent Merlin said. “Time to go to go Route 6. I believe our trainer is headed that way, anyway.”

“I’m going to brush your mane!” their trainer enthused, glomping Fat Pony and then doing as she had promised. “You’re the most beautiful pokemon in all of the world, and you deserve the best treatment!”

Fat Pony sniffed. “At least _she_ knows how to treat me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are perhaps serious ethical questions involved in capturing pokemon and using them in battle. This fan fic...will not be grappling with those questions.


	6. In the Lair of Cara Liss

The Prime Minister had many fond memories from various points in her life. There was the day she first laid an egg, the day she first won public office, and, of course, the day she was elected prime minister. She was the first silicobra to win in some time. (With hundreds of species of pokemon in the Galar region, the species of the prime minister changed regularly.)

The recent days were not on that list.

To start, she hadn’t seen the sun since she’d been handed over to Cara Liss.

Rumors had long swirled about the lair of Cara Liss, and the Prime Minister was now getting to experience it for the first time. It was a dreary, disturbing place. In one corner was a large tub. Periodically, nefarious figures would bring Cara Liss sacks of money, which she would dump into the tub. Then she would fill the tub with water and laundry soap, after which point she would stir it with a large paddle. In another corner was a pile of litters – like the royalty of old used to be carried around on. Cara Liss would leave with a stack of these in the morning and come back with none of them; the Prime Minister could only conclude that she was just leaving them all over the place. A cage across from the cage that held the Prime Minister was occupied by some pokemon that the Prime Minister didn’t recognize, but which Cara Liss referred to as her “darling jay bird”. In the afternoon, Cara Liss would put a harness on it and take it for a walk.

The other contents of the lab were even less pleasant. The worst was the flat table that occupied the center of the room. Its top was made from pieces of fossilized pokemon, which Cara Liss had declared to be her great love in life. Rising from the base of the table and looming over it was a contraption that the Prime Minister didn’t recognize. It was all twisted metal and wires and coils. Cara Liss had been fiddling with it for days now. She’d largely ignored the Prime Minister during that time, but she’d also not fed the Prime Minister in that time, and she was beginning to become woozy from hunger.

The door at the end of the lair opened and then closed behind Cara Liss as she entered. She bound over to the cage that held the Prime Minister. The elected official shrank back in her cage, but it was no use. In a swift movement, Cara Liss opened up the cage, grasped the Prime Minister, and slapped her down on the table. By the time the daze wore off, the Prime Minister found herself strapped down tightly.

“Cara Liss is a genius!” the unscrupulous scientist proclaimed, flipping a switch on the mechanical contraption that overlooked the table. “Cara Liss invented a new type of laser.”

The Prime Minister could see that. The coils now glowed an eerie blue and from the tip, the laser now stabbed down on the table. Where it touched, the table with its fossilized top slowly began to be cut in two. To the Prime Minister’s horror, the laser then began to slowly inch toward her.

“Cara Liss has mastered the art of putting pokemon back together,” Cara Liss continued. “Now Cara Liss must study taking them apart. You, dear silicobra, shall be the first test subject of Cara Liss. Science thanks you for your sacrifice.”

A leek hit Cara Liss in the head then, and she stumbled backwards. The laser shut off almost as quickly as a gout of flame engulfed it. All of a sudden, one of the Prime Minister’s best agents was by her side. She smiled. She recognized him even if he’d evolved twice since she’d last seen him.

“You got her, Agent Merlin?” Le Vainqueur asked.

“Almost,” said the spy. He pointed a finger at the first of the restrains that held the Prime Minister, and sprouts of water broke them in turn.

“Merlin,” the Prime Minister repeated. “You took a name.”

“Let’s get you out of here,” Agent Merlin said.

“I can carry her,” Sir Gareth said, and the Prime Minister was grateful to lean against her bodyguard.

“The whole gang’s here,” the Prime Minister said dreamily.

“When was the last time you ate?” Agent Merlin asked, concerned.

“Not since well before I was jumped, the best I know,” Sir Gareth answered. “We should get something in her and then get her back to our trainer.”

The trainer in question was delighted to meet – and capture – the Prime Minister.

“What a silly cobra!” the trainer gushed. “You look just like a member of parliament. I’m going to name you Premier Snek.”

“That’s not her name, you dolt,” Sir Gareth chastised.

But the Prime Minister, finally fed and safe and among friends, only gave a chuckle. “I like it.”


	7. Patty Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this fan fiction, like Who Frame Roger Rabbit?, is rated PG.

It wasn’t long after the rescue of the Prime Minister that Agent Merlin’s trainer obtained a ditto, which was how Agent Merlin and the ditto found themselves plopped down in the Daycare together. Agent Merlin didn’t know why it was called the Daycare. It wasn’t that neither Agent Merlin nor the ditto were children – although they weren’t – it was that the Daycare was most definitely not a place for minors.

A dart board hung on one wall, and a chaise lounge faced it. Along an adjacent wall was a dry bar, and along the opposite wall was a jukebox playing soft jazz music. Above them hung a disco ball, and he could see where the carpet on the floor unrolled to reveal a dance floor. It was Agent Merlin’s first time in the Daycare, but he’d heard plenty of stories about it. It was, after all, the most successful nightclub franchise in the world, with two locations in the Galar region alone.

It was the ditto who spoke first. “That was the Prime Minister back there, wasn’t it?” the ditto asked. “With that bodyguard of hers and Le Vainqueur. You one of her spies?”

Agent Merlin winced internally. The caterpie, it would seem, was out of the bag. He smiled winsomely at the ditto. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” he said. “I’m Merlin. Agent Merlin.”

“Pat Cake,” the ditto responded. “But you can call me Patty tonight.”

“Only tonight?” Agent Merlin asked.

Pat giggled. “On nights I’m feeling feminine, I like to go by Patty,” they explained. “Other nights, I prefer Patrick.” Pat shifted then, elongating and stretching until Agent Merlin found himself facing another inteleon. A female inteleon, in fact.

“Nicely done,” Agent Merlin praised. Several of his fellow spies were dittos, and he could tell that Pat had a real knack for shapeshifting.

“Is this your first time at the Daycare?” Pat asked.

“It is,” Agent Merlin said. As a spy, he was an adept liar when the situation called for it, but this was not the time for deceit. “You?”

“Oh, goodness no,” Pat said. “Although I usually go to the one in the Wild Area. Dr. Morpe-No says it has the best scenery.”

Agent Merlin felt his blood go cold. “You know Dr. Morpe-No?” he asked with forced nonchalance.

Pat collapsed onto the chaise lounge, kicking a long, blue leg up on the end. “Intimately,” Pat answered, drawing the word out. “But I don’t kiss and tell for just anyone.” They batted their eyes at Agent Merlin.

He strode over to the chaise lounge and rested on his arms on the back of it, looking down at Pat. “This isn’t a game,” he said. “It’s a matter of national security.”

“Phht,” Pat answered. “You secret agent types always say that, but it’s just ‘cause you want something for nothing.”

“Nevertheless, you are willing to provide information, for the right price?”

“I already told you that, didn’t I?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you willing to squelch on Dr. Morpe-No? Nasty character, from what I’ve heard.”

Pat had had one arm stretched out over their head, so that it hung off of the chaise lounge. They now brought both arms to their chest and crossed them. “Fine, Mr. Nosy Pants,” they conceded. “Dr. Morpe-No didn’t treat me right on our last date. I wouldn’t mind sticking it to her, if you must know.” They winked at Agent Merlin. “Plus, I’m curious.”

“Curious about what?”

“To know if white capes do it better than the crooks,” Pat responded. “Call it… scientific curiosity.”

“I’m a spy,” Agent Merlin said. “I don’t know if I count as a ‘white cape’.”

“You secret agent types always say that, too,” Pat said. “My offer doesn’t change.”

“Very well, Patty,” said Agent Merlin. “I believe that my trainer sent me here for a reason. Shall we play a game of patty cake?”

Pat winked again at Agent Merlin. “Pat it, and prick it, but you mustn’t bake too fast.”

They played patty cake all night long, and when Agent Merlin’s trainer arrived in the morning to swap him out for a drakloak, Agent Merlin had the information he needed, and the Daycare staff had given his trainer a new egg. The Daycare staff, when handing over the egg, professed not to know where it had come from. 


	8. The Pokemon Who Wasn't There

Neither Le Vainqueur nor Premier Snek had evolved yet, and their trainer wished to change that. So it was that they were training at the edge of Glimwood Tangle. This was near where Fat Pony’s gang typically hung out, and he’d sent Red Fern out to deliver a message to his Uncle Jack to let him know that he’d be away longer than expected. Once that was accomplished, Fat Pony carried on with his goal of getting his trainer to shine his hooves. He was having some difficulty in that arena, as his trainer was focused on trying to turn Premier Snek into a sandaconda.

“Can’t you just evolve already?” Fat Pony finally snapped. The Prime Minister didn’t respond right away, as Agent Merlin had sidled up next to her.

“What is it, Agent Merlin?” the Prime Minister asked.

“I was hoping to speak to you,” Agent Merlin said softly. “Privately.”

“What are you gabbing on about?” Fat Pony demanded.

Agent Merlin gave him a contemptuous look. “Nothing that concerns a common criminal like yourself.”

“I’m hardly common,” Fat Pony retorted, “and I was talking to the snake first. She never answered me, either. Why’s it taking you so long to evolve?”

Sir Gareth butt in then. “She’s tired from being kidnapped, you pile of glue ingredients.” Premier Snek, ever the politician, showed no outward hostility to Fat Pony for her abduction, but Sir Gareth saw no reason to be so restrained.

“I’ll be fine if I could just get a cup of tea,” the Prime Minister said pleasantly.

“I’ll get it,” Le Vainqueur said.

“No, I’ll get it,” Sir Gareth said.

“I’ll get my hooves shined now,” Fat Pony said pointedly, nuzzling his trainer. He held up a hoof for emphasis. Behind him, Le Vainqueur and Sir Gareth disappeared into the tall grass. They were shoulder to shoulder, jostling each other. The trainer ignored Fat Pony, intent on having Premier Snek fight another wild pokemon. Not to be deterred, Fat Pony followed at his trainer’s heels, nudging her occasionally. Agent Merlin lingered behind, trying to find a time to get the Prime Minister alone. There wasn’t one.

Sir Gareth and Le Vainqueur, for their part, had both intended to go back to Stow-on-Side to obtain a cup of tea there, but in their haste to outdo each other, they went the wrong way and were soon deep in Glimwood Tangle.

“You went the wrong way,” Le Vainqueur intoned.

Sir Gareth huffed at her. “_I_ went the wrong way? _You_ went the wrong way.”

“If we turn around and go back the way we came, we should reach our trainer in no time.”

Sir Gareth didn’t respond to that. She was staring at something on the other side of Le Vainqueur. When the sizzlipede turned to see what she was looking at, she was surprised to find a teacup sitting on the ground.

“A cup of tea?” Le Vainqueur asked incredulously.

“Or at least a cup,” Sir Gareth said. “But I do believe that some of the nearby plants can be used to be an herbal tea. If you’ll lend me some of your fire, we’ll have it ready for the Prime Minister in no time.”

“Just make sure you don’t poison the Prime Minister by accident,” Le Vainqueur said primly.

“I would never,” Sir Gareth huffed as she approached the teacup.

The next moment, Sir Gareth found herself being knocked backwards. She swung her leek in defense, but it proved to have no effect. The next blow from her assailant knocked the wind out of her.

“A sinistea!” Le Vainqueur shouted. “Fighting-type attacks won’t work. Hold on.” Without another word, Le Vainqueur threw herself in front of Sir Gareth. Her fire lash attack hit the sinistea dead on, and then Le Vainqueur began to glow.

“You’re evolving,” Sir Gareth said hazily. She was still very much dazed. She closed her eyes for what she was thought was just a moment. When she opened them again, Le Vainqueur, now a centiskorch, was peering down at her.

“Are you okay?” Le Vainqueur asked.

“Of course I’m okay!” Sir Gareth huffed, struggling to get up. Every bone in her body ached.

“Don’t force it,” Le Vainqueur said. “You took that second attack pretty hard.”

“Shove off,” Sir Gareth said. “You don’t need to go acting all superior just because…because…”

“Because you blame yourself for the Prime Minister’s kidnapping?” Le Vainqueur finished softly.

Sir Gareth nodded. “I was supposed to protect her. I failed! She should have just fired me! Oh, why am I telling _you_ this?”

There was a momentary silence, and then Le Vainqueur said, “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I said, I’m sorry,” Le Vainqueur repeated. “For acting superior.”

“Oh.” This wasn’t what Sir Gareth had expected at all, and she didn’t know what to say.

“Why don’t we head back to our trainer?” Le Vainqueur suggested.

“Yeah,” said Sir Gareth.

They returned to find that Premier Snek was now a sandaconda, much to their trainer’s delight. Much to Fat Pony’s delight, that meant that their trainer could now attend to the task of shining his hooves. (Fat Pony had also not evolved, and he had strongly if untruthfully hinted to his trainer that being sufficiently doted upon was a prerequisite.)

“No tea, I’m afraid,” said Le Vainqueur.

“It’s fine,” Premier Snek assured them. “I’ve evolved, so our trainer is happy.”

There was a rustling in the bushes, and Red Fern slinked back to the group. He looked from Le Vainqueur and Sir Gareth (who were standing next to each other and not fighting, for once) to the Prime Minister to Fat Pony being spoiled by their trainer.

“Where’s Merlin?” he asked.

The other pokemon looked around, but as sure as sure could be, Agent Merlin was no where to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a man upon the stair  
When I looked back, he wasn't there  
He wasn't there again today  
I think he's from the CIA. 
> 
> \-- Mad Magazine parody of "Antigonish"


	9. Earl Grey

“Merlin! Agent Merlin!”

The trainer had been calling for her lost inteleon for much of the last hour, interwoven with bouts of crying. Le Vainqueur searched about for a trail, but there was no way to tell which way he’d gone. Sir Gareth flew up into the sky to try and spot Agent Merlin from above, but he saw no flashes of blue that weren’t bodies of water. Red Fern asked the wild pokemon around if they’d seen him, but none of those he spoke to recalled an inteleon going their way. Fat Pony did his best to comfort their trainer. Finally, Premier Snek called a meeting.

“The way I see it,” she explained, “what we need to do is continue our search for Dr. Morpe-No. If Agent Merlin left voluntarily, there’s no doubt a good reason for it. If he was taken, it was likely by Dr. Morpe-No’s goons. So, the question is: where do we begin our search for Dr. Morpe-No?”

“She lives in Wyndon. The Ferris wheel there is her base of operations.”

The pokemon present looked around for the voice of the newcomer. They finally spotted a sinistea sitting practically underneath Fat Pony.

“Who are you?” Sir Gareth demanded. “Wait, you’re that sinistea from before.”

The sinistea tipped their teacup to the knight. “Earl Grey, at your service.”

“And how is it that _you_ know where Dr. Morpe-No is?” Le Vainqueur inquired.

“We used to be business partners,” Earl Grey explained, “until that bastard tried to cheat me on a payment.”

“What sort of business?” Sir Gareth asked suspiciously.

“Berry and curry trade,” Earl Grey lied. “And that’s all you’re getting out of me. I don’t like you law folk; I just want to stick it to that blasted morpeko.”

“How can we know you’re telling the truth?” Le Vainqueur asked. “This could be a trap.”

“I think I recognize you now. You’re Le Vainqueur du Vainqueur du Monde, right?”

“I am.”

“Then do you really think there’s a trap that could hold you?”

“Not likely!” Sir Gareth declared.

Le Vainqueur smiled at Sir Gareth and then grinned at Earl Grey. “The way one avoids being caught in traps is by not thinking one is too clever for a trap. Be on your way.”

Earl Grey saw the look that Le Vainqueur was giving them and decided to take her suggestion seriously. They soon had disappeared into the underbrush.

Le Vainqueur waited until the sinistea was completely gone to speak again. “If they are a spy for Dr. Morpe-No, it’s better that they report back false information.”

“Le Vainqueur and I should go,” Sir Gareth said.

“I am going, as well,” said Premier Snek.

“You can’t!” Sir Gareth protested. “You’re an elected official!”

Premier Snek smiled at her. “It is because I am an elected official that I can go. I’m perfectly replaceable. All it takes is an election. Besides, if Dr. Morpe-No really is a morpeko, you’ll need a ground type pokemon such as myself.”

“I’ll stay with our trainer,” Red Fern declared. “After Merlin’s disappearance, she’s going to be a mess when she notices you three gone.”

“Four,” Le Vainqueur corrected. “Fat Pony is going to be the one to get us in the door.”


	10. Biker, Boarder, Surfer, Spy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a bit of violence. It's nothing especially bad, but I didn't want any young readers being caught off guard.

“It’s not going to work.”

That was Fat Pony. He had said the same sentence or close variants of it the entire trip to Wyndon. Now, as the great Ferris wheel of Wyndon loomed up over them, his tones had become positively panicked.

“It will work if you do it right,” Le Vainqueur snapped. Sir Gareth gave her back a sympathetic pat. They were both losing patience with the former-ish mob boss. Premier Snek, on the other hand, could have been a candidate for sainthood.

“You don’t have to explain how you found Dr. Morpe-No,” the Prime Minister reminded him. “You just have to secure a meeting with her. Once we’ve confirmed that Dr. Morpe-No really is here, we’ll alert the pokemon division of the Serious Organized Crime Agency and have them make arrests.”

“And how do I explain you lot, huh?” Fat Pony demanded.

Premier Snek smiled tolerantly at him. “I’m playing the role of the corrupt public official. You’re to tell Dr. Morpe-No that I’m willing to take a bribe. That then explains the presence of Sir Gareth and Le Vainqueur.”

“No one’s going to believe that!” Fat Pony positively howled.

“I’m flattered that you think that,” Premier Snek said, “but we need to get inside.”

Sir Gareth, however, was frowning. “He has a point, actually.”

Premier Snek gave Sir Gareth her full attention. “Go on.”

“She just had you kidnapped,” Sir Gareth pointed out. “Okay, so maybe that rattled you. Maybe you’re willing to play ball for your own safety. But you don’t walk into the seviper’s nest, do you?”

“I suppose I do not,” Premier Snek conceded.

“Right,” Sir Gareth continued. “You send _me_. I don’t like it, but you’re my boss. I’m just the messenger. And you send Le Vainqueur. Because…er…”

“Because I only care about power and not ethics?” Le Vainqueur suggested.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Sir Gareth protested. She looked down and muttered, “I’ve seen what kind of pokemon you are.”

Le Vainqueur smiled gently. “But they haven’t. They’d buy it. It’s a good plan.”

Sir Gareth looked up bashfully. “Thanks.”

“I’ll wait outside then,” Premier Snek said. “If there’s trouble or you get confirmation of Dr. Morpe-No’s presence, send up a signal, and I’ll summon the authorities.”

“Game time, then,” Sir Gareth said. She gave a short bow to the Prime Minister and then turned toward the Ferris wheel. Le Vainqueur said nothing but gave the Prime Minister a quick nod of the head. Fat Pony bid no farewells but dragged his feet to what he was still sure would be his doom.

At the base of the Ferris wheel, they encountered a dottler serving as a lookout. She observed their approach with growing alarm.

“There’s nothing to be concerned about,” Fat Pony assured her in his most winsome voice. “I have urgent business to discuss with Dr. Morpe-No.”

“What’s going on?” the dottler demanded.

“It’s none of your concern,” Fat Pony sneered.

“Ain’t none of you just waltzing in the place!” the dottler retorted and then whistled. Two drednaw and a hattrem appeared. “Tie ‘em up,” the dottler ordered. One of the drednaw left and returned with several lengths of rope. Sir Gareth soon found her wings pressed tightly against her body. For Fat Pony, a length of rope was tied around his neck. The hattrem had a more difficult time with Le Vainqueur. There really wasn’t a good way to tie a centiskorch up. Eventually, the goons of Dr. Morpe-No gave up and settled on having Le Vainqueur walk tightly pressed between the two drednaw. Sir Gareth was ordered to walk on ahead of the hattrem, who led Fat Pony behind her.

It was in this manner that they got in the door. The door in question turned out to be the door to the maintenance room for the Ferris wheel. Once inside, a bookcase was swung aside, revealing an opening, and the ensemble descended a flight of stairs.

Sir Gareth tried to keep track of all the turns and twists they made on their journey, but she soon found herself praying that Le Vainqueur was having more success there. They finally halted in a room deep down under the Ferris wheel. A long, narrow, red carpet ran the length of the room, ending at a throne. A morpeko was lounging in the throne. Nothing else about that end of the room could be seen; while the throne itself was lit, the rest was in shadows. Something stirred in the darkness, and Sir Gareth realized that Dr. Morpe-No – if that was in fact the identity of the pokemon on the throne – had a bodyguard with her.

“Approach and kneel before royalty,” the hattrem ordered.

Fat Pony gracefully bent his front legs. Sir Gareth attempted to comply and nearly fell over. Le Vainqueur sort of bent her head, but that was the best she could do. Centiskorch were not built for kneeling.

“What’s all this?” the morpeko demanded.

“Interlopers, Boss,” said the hattrem. “I recognize Fat Pony and Le Vainqueur. I suspect the other one is the Prime Minister’s bodyguard.”

“I am,” Sir Gareth confirmed.

“And what brings all of you before me?” the morpeko asked lazily.

“These two contacted me,” Fat Pony explained, launching into the planned story. “They said the Prime Minister wants to deal.”

“Is that so?” the morpeko asked.

“It is,” Sir Gareth growled. “She values her safety more than her ideals. Cara Liss nearly cut her in half!”

“And the Conquer of the Conquer of the World?” the morpeko asked. “Why is she here?”

“I like a winner,” Le Vainqueur said simply. “That’s the better translation of my title.”

“So that’s how it is then, hm?” the morpeko asked. “The Prime Minister comes over to my side, and I get Le Vainqueur as a lieutenant. Oh, my.”

“That’s what we said,” Sir Gareth muttered resentfully.

The morpeko turned her attention to the drednaw on Le Vainqueur’s left. “Harold, be a dear and break one of Le Vainqueur’s legs please.”

“No!” Sir Gareth shouted, but there was no way for Le Vainqueur to dodge. She gave a short gasp of pain and then leaned heavily to one side, against the other drednaw.

“Boss?” Fat Pony asked, his voice shaking with concern and fear.

“I’m disappointed in you, Fat Pony,” the morpeko said in a calm, pleasant voice. “You had so much potential.”

“Please, Dr. Morpe-No,” Sir Gareth pleaded, “we’re here to deal!”

“You,” Dr. Morpe-No said plainly, “are here to lie.”

“We aren’t!” Sir Gareth insisted.

“That’s not what Agent Merlin told me,” Dr. Morpe-No said primly. She nodded, and the pokemon in the shadows stepped into the light. Sir Gareth gasped in shock. None other than Agent Merlin himself came forward, bowed his head respectfully to Dr. Morpe-No, and then leaned his arm on the arm of the throne. He stared at the trio before him with cold, uncaring eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun coming up with the title of this chapter.


	11. Galarian Rapidash

Le Vainqueur had questions that she wanted to ask Agent Merlin. Sir Gareth had bruises she wanted to inflict upon Agent Merlin. Fat Pony had other places he wanted to be. Only Fat Pony got what he wanted and then only partially, when Dr. Morpe-No demanded that they be thrown in the Pit.

The Pit, they soon discovered, was a hole in the floor of one of the rooms of the underground lair, fifteen feet deep and a third of that across. It was covered with a grate, which was locked shut.

“Arceus take them all!” Le Vainqueur swore. Then she slumped a bit to the side.

“Can you burn these ropes off of me?” Sir Gareth whispered. “But don’t burn the ropes completely.”

Le Vainqueur nodded through the pain. “Hold still.” Within a moment, Sir Gareth was free.

“Can you fly up there?” Fat Pony asked hopefully.

Sir Gareth shook her head. “They yanked out my flight feathers after they dropped you in. Anyway, there’s something more important that needs to be done first. Le Vainqueur, I’m going to use my leek and these ropes to make a splint for your leg.” Their captors had taken Sir Gareth’s lance and shield from her, but in their hasty search, they’d missed the small leek that Sir Gareth’s trainer had provided her.

“Thanks,” Le Vainqueur said. Working swiftly, Sir Gareth bound up her injured leg. There wasn’t anything she could do about the pain, but at least this would hopefully mean the leg would heal straight.

“How do we get out of here?” Fat Pony asked.

“I have an idea,” Le Vainqueur said. “Sir Gareth can stand on my head, and Fat Pony can balance on top of Sir Gareth. I’ll bet that Fat Pony could kick the lock off.”

Fat Pony eyed the other two pokemon dubiously. “That’ll be quite a balancing act.”

“It’s either that or they have us walk across a river with concrete shoes,” Le Vainqueur said acidly. “Which do you prefer?”

“All right, all right,” Fat Pony said. “We can try it.”

Centiskorch are not easy to balance on, and while Le Vainqueur insisted it was okay, Sir Gareth still felt guilty about standing on her head. Then there was the issue of getting Fat Pony up on Sir Gareth’s outstretched wings. Eventually, Le Vainqueur had to lay with her head nearly on the floor, the middle of her body bunched up in a loop due to lack of room. Sir Gareth positioned herself on her, and Fat Pony clambered up, his back feet on her wings and his front hooves against the wall of the Pit for balance.

“Going up slowly,” Le Vainqueur said and then began to carefully rise. She stopped halfway through when it seemed like Fat Pony might be in danger of tumbling off, but he was able to steady himself, so she continued.

Le Vainqueur couldn’t see the result of their progress, but from above her, she heard Fat Pony swear.

“Blast it!” he hissed. “I can’t reach it. I need another few feet.”

“All right,” Le Vainqueur said. “I’ll bring us down, and we’ll think of something else.”

“No, wait, not yet,” Fat Pony insisted. Rearing back a bit, being careful to keep his balance, he slammed his front hooves against the wall.

“What are you doing?” Sir Gareth demanded. When Fat Pony had reared back, he had put all of his weight on her wings instead of some of it being distributed to the wall. Sirfetch’d were tough for birds, but they were still birds with hollow bones. Sir Gareth felt like her wings were going to snap.

“I. Am. Trying. To. Evolve!” Fat Pony said through grit teeth. Every word was punctuated by his hooves striking against the wall.

Sir Gareth chuckled. “Atta boy!”

“Almost. Got it!”

Le Vainqueur could not see Fat Pony begin to glow, but when the evolution was complete, she could feel the additional weight.

“Can you reach it now?” Le Vainqueur asked.

“Oh, yes!” said the Galarian rapidash at the top. “And this lock is no match for my horn!”

The lock broke, and then Fat Pony knocked the gate open. With a final kick that nearly sent Sir Gareth tumbling, Fat Pony leaped out of the Pit. He searched around until he found a rope ladder attached to the lip of the Pit. It was a simple matter to kick it down. Soon, Sir Gareth and Le Vainqueur were both free.

“There will be guards,” Sir Gareth said. “Probably on the other side of the door.”

“We need to make a signal,” Le Vainqueur said. “Can you two handle the guards?”

“Undoubtedly,” Fat Pony boasted. “Why? What are you going to do?”

Le Vainqueur looked upward, at the ceiling. “I’m going to burn a hole to the sky and send up a flare signal. But it’s going to get rather hot in here, so I need you two non-fire types to leave.” She held out her leg. “Here, take back your leek.”

“But your leg,” Sir Gareth protested.

“You need it more if there’s going to be a fight,” Le Vainqueur insisted. “Besides, it’s liable to burn up if we leave it in place.”

Sir Gareth swallowed. “Okay.” She reclaimed her leek. “I’ll wait for you.”

Le Vainqueur smiled. “You’re going to be in greater danger than I.” She held out one of her forelegs and gently stroked the side of Sir Gareth’s face. At the touch, Sir Gareth leaned into the caress. “You’re a heck of a warrior, Sir Gareth,” Le Vainqueur cooed.

“I only strive to imitate the best,” Sir Gareth responded, smiling back at Le Vainqueur.

“And I feel like a third wheel,” Fat Pony muttered. “You ready?”

“Yes,” Sir Gareth said.

“Not quite,” Le Vainqueur corrected. “A warrior shouldn’t go into battle without a good luck kiss, yes?”

“Yes!”

For all the things that centiskorch were not made to do, kissing thankfully wasn’t on that list.

“Do I get a kiss?” Fat Pony asked when they were done.

“Hmph,” Le Vainqueur said.

“You did get us out of the Pit,” Sir Gareth conceded. Fat Pony leaned down, and Sir Gareth gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. Compared to the kiss Le Vainqueur had given Sir Gareth, it was as an anthill is to a mighty mountain.

“All right,” Le Vainqueur said. “Move out. When I hear the fighting start, I’m going to start burning, so no retreating.”

“A knight never retreats!” Sir Gareth declared and hefted her leek. Fat Pony kicked the handle off of the door, and Sir Gareth opened it to what came next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to look up the pokemon's various measurements and weights for this chapter. So, anyway, Sir Gareth now has a girlfriend who's five times her size. I added the Enemies to Friends to Lovers tag for them. Rivals to Friends to Lovers probably would have been more appropriate, but I went ahead and went with the more common tag.


	12. Big Red Button

By time Le Vainqueur rejoined Sir Gareth and Fat Pony, the fight in the hallway had ended in favor of the sirfetch’d and Galarian rapidash. Bodies of unconscious pokemon were strewn across the floor haphazardly, and Sir Gareth and Fat Pony were panting heavily.

“The signal’s gone up,” Le Vainqueur informed them. “We’ll have back up soon.”

“How’s your leg?” Sir Gareth asked.

“Hurts,” Le Vainqueur admitted, “but I’ve got lots of legs. Come on. Let’s go get Dr. Morpe-No before she escapes.”

“More goons coming,” Fat Pony said, craning his heck to look down the hall.

“Looks like we do this the hard way,” Sir Gareth said. She hefted her leek.

There were numerous skirmishes before they reached Dr. Morpke-No’s “throne room”. Le Vainqueur was moving, but she wasn’t moving quickly, and the fights made a lot of ruckus. Taking down one group of underlings served only to alert the next group to their presence.

When they knocked out the guards outside the door to the throne room, they found Dr. Morpe-No was still there. She was sitting calmly on her oversized throne, and she was not alone. Agent Merlin stood at her side.

“Give it up, both of you,” Sir Gareth said. “You’re outnumbered.”

“We don’t run from fights,” Dr. Morpe-No said. She craned her neck to look up at Agent Merlin. “Isn’t that right?”

Agent Merlin smiled a lizard smile. “Oh, I’m a spy. I’ve done all sorts of things because the mission called for it.” Then he patted the arm of the throne. “But I don’t believe _this_ fight merits a retreat.”

“This place is surrounded,” Le Vainqueur said waspily. “You’re not getting out of here.” As if to give truth to her words, a crash came from one of the halls elsewhere in the lair.

Dr. Morpe-No didn’t reply right away. Her hands fiddled with something, and Sir Gareth saw that she was holding a remote control of some sort. In the center of the remote control was a big red button.

“You think you’re so dashing,” Dr. Morpe-No said finally. “You think you can waltz in here and undo everything I’ve worked for.”

“She is, and we can,” Le Vainqueur quipped, but she was frowning at the remote control.

Dr. Morpe-No saw where she was looking. “Self-destruct button,” Dr. Morpe-No said. “It’ll bring the whole place down.” She didn’t say it calmly. There was a shake there, but it was a shake that made Le Vainqueur’s frown deepen. There were times when a shakiness in the voice meant that one’s opponent wasn’t going to go through with their threat. Le Vainqueur did not think this was one of those cases. No, this time, the shake was an indication that someone was about to do something really stupid.

“You’d die, too,” Fat Pony pointed out.

“Better death than jail,” Dr. Morpe-No said. She spoke lightly, but there was steel in her voice.

Dr. Morpe-No’s finger moved to hit the button. Then, right then, before Le Vainqueur or Sir Gareth or even Fat Pony could react, a shot of water spurted through the air and knocked the remote control out of Dr. Morpe-No’s hands. The blast was strong enough that it ripped the remote control into two, and the separate pieces clattered to the floor as two simultaneous but distinct noises. Every neck in the room twisted to look at Agent Merlin, whose arm and finger were outstretched in the pose he struck for his snipe shot attack.

“Like I said,” Agent Merlin said breezily, “I’m a spy. I do what the mission calls for.”


	13. Secret Agent Mon

“It was all a ruse??”

“Of course.”

“A trick?”

“Clearly.”

“So you were, what, a double agent?”

“Only for pretend.”

“A triple agent then.”

“Most assuredly not. I was a fake double agent. An infiltrator.”

“Is that legal?” It was Fat Pony who had spoken. Previously, the conversation had been exclusively between Sir Gareth and Agent Merlin. Sir Gareth kept on glancing at Premier Snek, but the Prime Minister had so far kept her peace. Le Vainqueur was also silent. They wouldn’t be able to get her to a Pokemon Center until they located their trainer, so she was leaning on Sir Gareth for support.

“No, it’s not,” Sir Gareth answered, “and his illegality got Le Vainqueur injured.”

Agent Merlin gave them a sidelong glance. “You two sure are suddenly all buddy buddy.”

“Yeah, well, you miss stuff when you totter off to betray your oath of office!” Agent Merlin opened his mouth to say something, but Sir Gareth cut him off, waving her recovered leek lance at him. “You did! Don’t go denying it. If you hadn’t, the Prime Minister would have known what was up.”

“I couldn’t risk the crook over their knowing about the plan,” Agent Merlin said coolly. “What if he had alerted Dr. Morpe-No?”

“At least I never betrayed an oath of office,” Fat Pony retorted.

“You have no office to betray,” Agent Merlin sniped, “on account of the fact that you’re a criminal.”

“Just like you!” Sir Gareth insisted. “Point in fact, Fat Pony didn’t betray us. You did!”

“Pretend betrayed,” Agent Merlin insisted.

“But real fired,” Premier Snek said mildly, speaking for the first time. “Although if you wish, you may tender your resignation, Merlin.”

“Understood,” Merlin answered, and that was all he said.

They walked in silence for a bit after that, until Le Vainqueur finally spoke. “Was it worth it?” she asked, and Merlin nodded. Nothing more was said until they started up a hill to find Red Fern cresting it. He trotted down the other side to greet them.

“Oh thank goodness!” Red Fern said when he saw them. “She’s been an absolute mess. She had to drop out of the Gym Challenge, and-”

“Red Fern?” they heard their trainer cry. “Red Fern? Where’d you go? Don’t leave me, too!” The last was a wail, and their trainer’s eyes were brimming with tears when she followed Red Fern over the hill. She stopped when she saw the sight before her. “Premier Snek! Le Vainquer! Sir Gareth! My precious blue boy and my beautiful Rapidash! You all came back!” She saw the way Le Vainqueur was leaning on Sir Gareth. “Oh, no! You’re hurt. Let me get you to a Pokemon Center right away. And then I think we can all use a nice cup of tea.” She briefly gathered up the pokemon in a big bear hug, being gentle with Le Vainqueur’s injury, and then returned them all to their pokeballs before trotting off in the direction of the nearest Pokemon Center.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that concludes that. I want to thank everyone who read, commented, and left kudos. This story has been far more popular than I ever expected, and it fills me with delight that so many people liked it.


End file.
